


Rain Over The Mediterranean

by SabineElectricHeart (TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns)



Category: Code:Realize ～創世の姫君～ | Code: Realize - Guardian of Rebirth (Visual Novel)
Genre: Conversations, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Summer, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns/pseuds/SabineElectricHeart
Summary: Cardia and Saint-Germain considers the synonymy between them and the sea.
Relationships: Cardia Beckford/Saint-Germain
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Rain Over The Mediterranean

The first, fat raindrop landed on Saint-Germain’s nose, running along the curve of his nostril before it lost momentum on his upper lip. The second splashed against Cardia’s ear, the cold startling needles beneath her skin.

By the third drop, Saint-Germain had taken her hand to guide her dextrously back to the excessive, replicant mansion by the beach near Marseille that had been their home since the previous afternoon.

The seemingly newlywed couple was in sights of their lodgings, and so the sudden rain was not much of a concern, but it was such a shame cut their walk short. The sweet smells of the lavender plantation nearby, carried by the cooler wind from the continent and easing the dry heat of the summer morning. The soft sunlight reflected on the shore estates and the ruins down the beach.

Saint-Germain looks over to the Mediterranean. Some few miles away from the beach, it was as sunny as ever, while over them hung a grey, stormy cloud, ready to release its contents over their heads. A shame, indeed, but it might be sunny again in a couple of hours.

The young woman paused for just a moment, casting a final look toward the brilliant orange of the morning sun. It was rare for it to rain in the Mediterranean Summer, but she pinned that up to a good omen. Ancient men, like her husband, usually interpreted rain as a gift from up above, and she liked that thought.

As the brunette watched, the surface of the seawater became speckled with rain, the agitation beneath suggesting that more was brewing than a simple morning shower. She turned away to follow Saint-Germain, wondering if these were the sights that had earned her husband’s love for the sea.

Their pace quickened as the skies continued to pour forth with increasing vigour. Her thin slippers, tugged back on in haste, did little to aid her in gaining traction through the loose sand beyond the shoreline. Cardia lurched forward; the shadows of the jacket Saint-Germain held over her head blocking her view of uneven path. His arm was at her side in a moment to catch her.

“I’m well, Saint-Germain.” She promised, giggling at the foolish image they would have made had anyone else been at the seaside to observe them.

“We’re nearly there.” He encouraged as they came within sight of their temporary abode.

He flung open the door and ushered her in, stopping to flick the excess water from his jacket onto the ground outside. When he had finished, he stepped back, latching the door and casting his eye around the darkening mansion.

“It looks as though we may be stuck inside for a while, unfortunately.” Cardia surmised as she brushed the wet curls from her eyes. “But I cannot fault the company.”

“Nor I.” The affection in his voice produced a shiver that had nothing to do with the inclement weather.

The dampness of her clothes finally settling against her skin, Cardia drew close to the fire Saint-Germain was stoking back from embers.

“We should dry much faster if we change out of our wet things.” He advised with a quick glance back at her. “I would not want you to become sick in our little escapade.”

She nodded at the welcome suggestion, fingers already working at the ties of her dress. Still, she watched him as he worked the coals, divided focus slowing movements that should have come easily.

He added a log to the fire, the flames crackling greedily to consume the new wood. In the glow, his eyes gleamed emerald as she stepped nearer. Three years of marriage, and her heart still raced every time she saw the way he looked at her when they were alone together. She hoped it always would.

Saint-Germain joined her in standing, his posture straight and still as he allowed her to assist in his process of undressing. Cardia’s deft fingers made short work of his shirt, tugging out the layers of fabric that had been tucked down the front of his trousers.

“You’re soaked through.” She noted quietly, wondering how many times he had been similarly drenched without a place of retreat.

 _How many times had he gone without someone to care for him? I will see that he lacks for nothing_ , she promised as her hand lingered over the well-known scars on his chest.

He covered her fingers with a large hand, dragging them gently from the puckered skin at his side. His lips skimmed the knuckles with the lightest of kisses before he returned the hand and directed his attention to the fastenings at her shoulders.

She watched his face as he worked, feeling his efforts come to fruition in the loosening neckline. Idly, she wondered whether there was anything which his hands were not skilled in doing. If there were, she had yet to discover it.

Moments later, he eased the shift over her head, leaving her bare before him.

“You are beautiful, my Cardia.” He breathed out.

With a tender smile, he extended a hand to cup her cheek. Cardia stood on her toes, offering her mouth for a kiss.

His lips tasted of wind and rain, wakening a heat deep within her that even the cool of autumn could not steal away. It was only with some effort that she pulled back to gather their clothes from the floor. While she arranged their wet things by the fireplace, Saint-Germain stepped into a dry set of trousers.

“Perhaps…” She began, wicked thoughts running through her mind while catching his movement in the corner of her eye. “Perhaps we should wait for these to dry. There is little reason for us to dress fully now. No one is here to see us, and it will be some time before we are able to return outside.”

He laid aside the shirt, but his fingers still worked to fasten the buttons of his pants. “I would not object to that.”

Task complete, Cardia crossed the room, winding her arms around her husband’s waist and pressing her cheek to his bare skin. Even out of the wet clothes, she was far from warm. A faint shiver crossed her shoulders as Saint-Germain’s arms circled them.

“You may doubt my words, repetitive as they certainly are, but tea is very good for warming up on such mornings.” He suggested, stepping aside to pull a quilt from the bed.

Returning to her, he wrapped the blanket around her petite frame.

“Indeed, it is.” She agreed, clutching at the fabric. “But I am not in the mood for tea. I suppose I would rather to keep you warm myself, instead.”

The blond man chuckled. “I would not object to that either.”

Her lips pursed slightly at the quiver of humour in his tone.

While he began boiling water, Cardia took stock of the supplies they had brought with them from his London estate. Impey and Lupin had done them a great favour, not only preparing days’ worth of food in advance, but including all of the things they might need to cook for themselves as well.

She thought that Victor, too, might have had something to do with the state of the provisions, especially when she located a little pot of the honey that they both favoured, which had fallen to the bottom of one basket. She ought to remember to thank him upon their return to London.

Setting it aside, she replaced the contents of the basket, a task that took much longer with one hand occupied in holding up her blanket. When she had finished, she sat and watched her husband’s capable form over the fire. Even as they had adjusted to the roles of their new life, moments like these reminded her just how quickly the familiar had become foreign.

“Is this what you imagined when you wished for a vacation by the sea?” She inquired softly, pulling the corners of the quilt into a knot at her breast.

He turned from the fire momentarily in order to address the question. “You already know that life with you is much more than I ever could imagine, Cardia.”

“That does not quite answer my question.” She protested, falling quiet for some moments before she attempted it again. “Do you never wish for a simpler life? A human life, with a human woman, with little business with Salvation or the British government or the European Concert?”

Saint-Germain withdrew the boiling pot and set it beside the fire to steep. Contemplative, he rocked back onto his heels.

“Cardia, when I was a human, my life was painful, miserable and short. When I met Trismegistus, when I was allowed to _want_ for the first time, I wished for an ordinary happiness. Our life may be far from what I classify as ordinary, but I would do nothing to change our fortunes, because ordinary or otherwise, I am deliriously happy.” He urged with a thin smile. “Especially when we may rely on our friends to help arrange for such disappearances as this one. With them to assist us, I doubt that this will be the last time we escape to the sea together.”

Her legs scratched against each other as she pulled them up under the chair.

"I hope that it is not. Though I’m not sure I expected this particular excursion to be quite so dirty.” She observed, rubbing the salt and sand that had dried on her calves.

"Was it not worthwhile to walk barefoot through the waves?” Saint-Germain poured her a measure of tea and sat across the table.

She thanked him and took a small sip, mulling over the question he had posed. “It was worth seeing the sea at your side.”

He watched closely to gauge her response. “You do not like it on its own?”

She shrugged. “I’m not certain what I think of it. At the moment, I find it rather frightening, and there’s rather more sand than I imagined. I’m afraid I’ll be finding it in my shoes for months to come, and that part of life by the sea does not seem very appealing.”

He laughed gently at her complaint, green eyes shimmering with his amusement. “I am not fond of it either, but it is a necessary evil to enjoy the ocean.”

"Then tell me what it is like to be at sea.” She suddenly demands. “What is it about the water that you love?”

Even beyond the sand, her own first impression had been less favourable. She could smile as the foamy waves lapped her feet, but the thought of being stranded in the midst of the wide ocean made her shudder. It was too large, too uncertain for her to understand his great affection for it.

He chuckled once more. “That would be a very long story indeed.”

Thunder boomed, a tremor reverberating throughout the small mansion.

“This seems a good morning for long stories, dear. We won’t be anywhere until lunchtime.” Cardia tightened her hold on the fine porcelain cup and took a draught of the liquid.

“Very well.” The aristocrat concurs.

“But if I am to keep you warm, then I must join you for the telling.” She stood, barely catching the edge of the quilt before it slipped from one shoulder.

A smile flittered across his face at her brief struggle.

“I do not think this chair is large enough for both of us.” His eyes darted from her to the opposite wall. “Perhaps we should sit before the fire, where we may both be warm.”

Tea in one hand, Cardia rose to the balls of her feet and pivoted toward the place he had indicated. Her tiny steps beckoned him to follow, but he outpaced her easily. Once there, he sat a distance from the flames, legs outstretched so that she was able to easily climb into his lap.

She untied the blanket and spread it around both pairs of shoulders. Saint-Germain’s hands held her secure, arms encircling her slender waist once everything had been properly situated. She sighed with contentment as her bare skin settled against his broad chest.

“This is very pleasant.” Cardia mused, slipping one arm outside of the alcove to retrieve her tea.

The blond nods. “It is, perhaps, too pleasant. If we sit like this for very long, I may be in danger of forgetting the sea altogether.”

With a titter, Cardia slipped from his lap to the floor. “I’ll return once you’ve finished your story.”

Saint-Germain leaned down to kiss her crown, one arm stretching behind to draw her close. Heads together, he began to speak.

For nearly an hour, he told her of the great empty expanse; of the freedom of movement to anywhere in the known world; of the moonlit nights with calm, open seas; of the ceaseless rocking that enticed sleep such as no other force could bring; of the bliss of seeing land at long last after a hard voyage. Countless descriptions and tales that Cardia endeavoured to commit to memory.

She listened intently as he spoke, and while her own feelings toward the sea remained unchanged, she thought, perhaps, that she could understand his better.

By the time his words had reached their end, the roaring fire had dwindled and they had long since given up their seated positions in order to lie beside one another atop the quilt.

"Has your curiosity been satisfied?” He asked finally, voice low against the patter of rain above them. “Or is there anything else you wish to know?”

She considered the sum total of all she knew, both from his words and from her own observations. “Just this. The sea that I have observed is nothing like what your stories describe. Even between this morning and yesterday evening, it is completely altered. What is there to love about something that is so full of changes? How can there be any comfort in returning to something that is never the same?”

"Aye.” He agreed readily. “It changes often. But I think I love it more because of the changes.” His gaze dropped to the blanket beneath them as he wove his thoughts together.

Cardia gave him room to think, lazily combing through the white silk of his hair that were still damp from their previous drenching. When his eyes returned to her face, she was startled to see the depth of emotion held within.

“It is rather like the way I love you, though my love for you is much greater.” Saint-Germain swallowed, the lines in his face softening as he continued. “Cardia, you have altered a great deal since you first arrived at London. Few would recognize in you now the same unfeeling, detached doll that Lupin brought back from somewhere in Wales. Yet, I love you for many of the same reasons that I loved you then. In the months that have passed, I have seen blossom many sides of you, but there is not a single one I do not love.”

Saint-Germain looked on her meaningfully, and she felt the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. Throat thickening, Cardia rolled onto an elbow to get a better look at him. He gazed back with honesty and adoration, and she wondered what on earth she could have done to deserve such complete devotion from so generous a man.

"My love for you is constant, Saint-Germain.” She breathed, brushing her fingers along the length of his strong jaw, “even through the changes.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade, the thick muscles rippling under her touch. “And it is the deepest love that I have ever known.” She traced a line of kisses to his neck, pausing at the nape tenderly.

When she pulled away, he turned to his side and drew her into his arms. She melted against him readily, every vein alight with desire to show him her promises were true.

He searched her face, though her features could hardly be discerned in the dim light. “You are the greatest change to my life, my Cardia, but the greatest constant too. I would not trade this life with you for all of the dreams and stories my mind has ever devised. I have the sun itself. How could I desire more?”

The fire before them had faded to embers, yet the flames within Cardia burned bright as she met his lips in a passionate kiss.

A shock of thunder rumbled, and rain beat heavily against the panes of the small window. But neither thought of the weather, or even the sea that lay outside. They did not even ponder the future changes which waited for them beyond the mansion walls. Instead, they found joy in one thing they knew would never waver.


End file.
